The other day I purchased Real Jewish Rye. Seedless- but that wasn't a factor, I like seeds. So I toasted up two slices, spread butter on them and cut the stack in two. Hot tea in an Eiffel tower mug. (Thanks Jen)
I want to be that guy in the dirty jeans who sidles himself up next to you on the street spouting bullshit. Telling you the answer while being overly nonchalant and using hand gestures. (He assumes that builds respect because that's what his Dad used to do.)
I usually eat toast with the butter side down. We don't have taste buds that register fat, but the texture is nicer. Sometimes I eat the crust first.
So this guy- he has his own agenda. He wants you to be on his side. He doesn't even know why because he's not a thief or a dealer- it's just important to him. When he appears wearing his torn-at-the-elbow leather jacket, black of course, I know to stop and let him speak. I respond, "Yeah man, I know. It'd be fucking great." His speech, now more animated continues on until I decide to nod my head and walk away even though that nod shakes my hair over my eyes and places my hands in my pockets.
All I really want is to eat my toast, real Jewish Rye and drink my hot tea from an Eiffel tower mug.
Just for fun- if I was that guy, I might warn you that toast gets cold. The butter, congealed again, sticks to the lips. The bread gets chewy because the gluten activates and if you have TMJ, like I do, it can start to irritate your jaw. And as for the tea? That cools off, too.
No comments:
Post a Comment